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Content warning: mental health and self harm.
I'm trying to keep track of what's going on in my life, because it's been so useful to have this record over the past 20 years. No need to respond if you aren't up to dealing with someone you may not know all that well talking about serious mental health problems. I just don't want anyone to feel obligated.
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After my semester of school ended, I crashed pretty hard.
I think that the need to be functional enough to pass my classes had been keeping me going for a month or two when I didn't have anything else that was doing it. When classes ended, I couldn't keep afloat anymore.
For two or three weeks, I was spending most of the day in bed because I couldn't find the motivation to get up. I had near complete anhedonia. I would sometimes try to do something I enjoyed--walking with the dog, playing games I love on the computer, or bicycling--but I got no positive feelings from them. They were a chore, and I gave up on them. More than that, I despaired for the future. I couldn't believe that anything I could do to improve my situation in the medium-to-long term would help. The thought of going to sleep for the night was wearying because it meant waking up to another day of the same thing. I was pretty much out of hope entirely. If not for my partner's care, and caring for the dog, I might have harmed myself. I've never thought actively about suicide, I was having a lot of passive thoughts about not wanting to exist.
Snuggling the dog was about the only thing that could make me consistently happy. Even if I was feeling horrible and crying while doing it. Meanwhile, my partner was being unfailingly caring and supportive, and helping me pursue options for making things better, helping me feel loved and supported even when I couldn't love and support myself.
It was bad.
I've managed to get my prescription for bupropion renewed. After a couple weeks, it's built up enough in my body to make a difference. The improvement is small and fragile, I have panic attacks and crying spells on a daily basis. But I'm also able to enjoy things like walking with the dog. I've been enjoying Civilization 6 over the past few days, though I can only play until the decision making becomes too stressful.
My very last class for my MLIS is this Summer, and it's starting to feel like something I might be able to do. For some time, I just felt terror and inability, but I think maybe I can do it. And over the last week, I've managed to get out for long walks with the dog more often than not. I'm still scared of talking to people while walking along the lake with her. A woman approached the two of us and asked how I was doing, and I just couldn't think of an answer for about two or three seconds. But we still walked along together for a bit and chatted about dogs and nothing horrible happened and the anxiety I felt about the interaction afterward was manageable.
I have thoughts about some of the causes of all this, and I'll write about them in another post.
I'm trying to keep track of what's going on in my life, because it's been so useful to have this record over the past 20 years. No need to respond if you aren't up to dealing with someone you may not know all that well talking about serious mental health problems. I just don't want anyone to feel obligated.
-----
After my semester of school ended, I crashed pretty hard.
I think that the need to be functional enough to pass my classes had been keeping me going for a month or two when I didn't have anything else that was doing it. When classes ended, I couldn't keep afloat anymore.
For two or three weeks, I was spending most of the day in bed because I couldn't find the motivation to get up. I had near complete anhedonia. I would sometimes try to do something I enjoyed--walking with the dog, playing games I love on the computer, or bicycling--but I got no positive feelings from them. They were a chore, and I gave up on them. More than that, I despaired for the future. I couldn't believe that anything I could do to improve my situation in the medium-to-long term would help. The thought of going to sleep for the night was wearying because it meant waking up to another day of the same thing. I was pretty much out of hope entirely. If not for my partner's care, and caring for the dog, I might have harmed myself. I've never thought actively about suicide, I was having a lot of passive thoughts about not wanting to exist.
Snuggling the dog was about the only thing that could make me consistently happy. Even if I was feeling horrible and crying while doing it. Meanwhile, my partner was being unfailingly caring and supportive, and helping me pursue options for making things better, helping me feel loved and supported even when I couldn't love and support myself.
It was bad.
I've managed to get my prescription for bupropion renewed. After a couple weeks, it's built up enough in my body to make a difference. The improvement is small and fragile, I have panic attacks and crying spells on a daily basis. But I'm also able to enjoy things like walking with the dog. I've been enjoying Civilization 6 over the past few days, though I can only play until the decision making becomes too stressful.
My very last class for my MLIS is this Summer, and it's starting to feel like something I might be able to do. For some time, I just felt terror and inability, but I think maybe I can do it. And over the last week, I've managed to get out for long walks with the dog more often than not. I'm still scared of talking to people while walking along the lake with her. A woman approached the two of us and asked how I was doing, and I just couldn't think of an answer for about two or three seconds. But we still walked along together for a bit and chatted about dogs and nothing horrible happened and the anxiety I felt about the interaction afterward was manageable.
I have thoughts about some of the causes of all this, and I'll write about them in another post.